P S
by RevSue
Summary: Sequel to Letter to My Best Friend. After Clarisse has left for Genovia and Joseph is left behind to ‘babysit’ Mia, he finds the letter Clarisse wrote to Rupert.


_Disclaimer: STILL don't own any of these characters, since Princess Diaries 1 and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot, and unfortunately still can't figure out how to make any money from this work of fiction!_

Many thanks to mainer21 and tayryn for their help with this, as usual!!

O o O o O o

_Joseph prowled around the consulate when he had returned from seeing Genovia One take off from San Francisco to return to their own country the queen and the members of Parliament who had attended the Independence Day Ball the previous evening. He had inwardly raged about having been bidden to remain in the United States until Princess Amelia was finished her school term, but outwardly had acquiesced to the royal command. Perhaps it was for the best, after all, he thought moodily. But the consulate felt empty, in spite of the half dozen maids still in residence. Joseph knew it was because SHE was no longer here. His queen. His ... life. _

_Yes, she was his queen, and in spite of all his efforts to suppress his feelings for her, Clarisse was still the woman he loved more than life itself. Yet Clarisse seemed more able to bury her feelings. That, or she did not feel for him quite what he felt for her, even now. Frustrated by his thoughts, Joseph slammed the palm of his hand against one of the bookcases in her room, then frowned when it moved back an inch or two. A piece of paper lay upside down on the floor, just peeking out from underneath the bottom shelf. It must be the document for which Clarisse had been searching frantically for the last two weeks ... the one she had refused to describe to anyone. Squatting down and carefully prying the paper out from its hiding place without ripping it, Joseph straightened, took a deep breath, and turned the paper over._

_A letter to King Rupert? King Rupert! For a brief second, Joseph struggled with the knowledge that he probably should not be reading this. But his eyes had already recognized Clarisse's handwriting, and his own name had leaped out from the page. Giving in to temptation, Joseph quickly read through the letter once. _

_His breath caught in his throat. Then he slowly and deliberately read the letter again before folding it carefully and slipping it into his inside jacket pocket. Out of the chaotic swirl of his thoughts rose one shining truth. She loved him!_

_O o O o O o_

_Seating himself at Clarisse's desk and taking up his pen, Joseph turned to the back of Clarisse's letter to King Rupert and began to write a postscript in his own attempt to sort out his feelings. After all, the King had been very friendly to him the last few months of his life, and Joseph felt he almost owed the man an explanation for his behaviour since then._

Your Majesty, King Rupert,

I feel I must confess to harbouring contradictory feelings with regard to Clarisse. In the beginning, as your wife, as Queen Clarisse, her safety was naturally under my jurisdiction and position as the Head of Security for the royal family of Genovia. However, she has NEVER been 'just' my queen. Since the day I first began to work primarily as her bodyguard during your final illness, the admiration I had always felt for her strengthened. Then, thanks to the hours spent talking with you both during the last few months of your life, my admiration for Queen Clarisse turned to genuine liking and my friendship with Clarisse, the woman, deepened. The passion that suddenly flared between us, months after your death and more than a year after our close association had begun, startled and disconcerted me every bit as much as it did her.

I love her. I suppose I have always loved her, but truthfully I never realized it until that moment three months ago when we looked into each other's eyes ... then found ourselves in each other's arms. It has seemed that since Prince Philippe's tragic death, the love I thought we shared was pushed into the background ... belittled ... forgotten ... ignored. I have tried to give her what she needed, to be what she wanted me to be, to protect her as I had vowed I always would. I have tried these last few months to bury my desires and to be strong for her, knowing that at least we had not anticipated our wedding vows in those hectic few days between discovering our love and seeing our hopes shattered. I have been able to watch her grow as a queen, I have been privileged to aid her in whatever way I could, and in doing so largely un-noticed and un-appreciated, I found myself wondering if my love really was returned ... or if those few days had been a figment of my imagination and only a temporary thaw in Clarisse's queenly veneer. Your Majesty, I suppose I should regret the two times I failed in my attempts to curb my passion here in San Francisco ... for her sake, if not for my own ... but I do not. When we danced a few weeks ago, I could no more have released her without giving in to my desire to kiss her than I could have walked out of her life without a backward glance.

_Joseph's hand clenched around his pen as he remembered the kiss in the ballroom. He had almost spoken as the music faded away, but upon gazing into her eyes, he had seen a look of hunger which he knew mirrored his own. Instead of speaking, he had lowered his head and kissed her – a kiss of raw need that had drawn an instant response of surprise and desire from her. The long, barren months since Philippe's accident, which had ended their few days of stolen kisses and happy planning for the future, vanished as if they had never been. As she had before Philippe's death, Clarisse had responded with her whole being to the touch of Joseph's lips following their dance two weeks ago. She had tightened her arms around him, arched herself to him and kissed him back fiercely, only to tear herself away moments later in panic and flee from him without another word or sign that his kiss had meant anything to her. Until now. Joseph turned the paper he was writing on back over and read Clarisse's letter to Rupert again. Yes, the kiss had meant much to her ... as much as it had to him. He found himself wondering a trifle grimly if the late King had enjoyed Clarisse's kisses as much as he did. And yet, according to Clarisse's letter, they had never been in love! What kind of a marriage was THAT? With a scowl, Joseph continued to write to the man who had been a friend as well as a sovereign, and who had been the one to have married Clarisse ... without love._

Last night, your Majesty, I took advantage of Clarisse's euphoric triumph when Princess Mia announced that she was willing to be recognized as the next in line to the throne of Genovia. Being the one admittedly responsible for getting the young princess to the ball just in the nick of time,

_Joseph grimaced at the memory of the young girl's bedraggled appearance when the car he had been directing drew up to hers and she had risen from the seat, her face expressing her despair mingled with hope ... then at the memory of Clarisse's face when, about to announce that her grand-daughter did not wish to rule Genovia, she had been interrupted by the princess' throat-clearing and had seen a dripping Princess Mia smiling uncertainly at her._

I knew at that moment that I could doubtless ask for the moon and Clarisse would have it handed to me on a silver platter if it were in her power. Last night I KNEW, your Majesty, that she could be mine, heart, soul and body. I took advantage of her moment of weakness, her time of triumph, and I danced with her again, in full view of half the Parliament, the press, and all the dignitaries.

Now that I have read how she feels about me, now that I can see the agony she is going through which is so close to mine, I must admit that I wonder if I should feel a certain amount of guilt at the further advantage I took last night.

_Joseph grimaced to himself again. How many times since they had danced the Wango, as the princess had termed it, had he found himself imagining, quite inappropriately, what Clarisse's face would look like when he finally made love with her ... long, hot, passionate love when they no longer had to hide from the world, when their friendship could be brought out of the shadows and into the light of love. Last night ..._

_As he kissed her hand, she smiled at him, and drew his hand to her lips as well. Then, when they had rounded the corner and were quite alone, he steered her into a secluded alcove and kissed her with knee-weakening promise. A moan rose in her throat, and she shuddered at the pure need she felt pouring over her. _

"_It should not be like this! I'm too old!" she protested faintly._

"_You are beautiful, and I've wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you ..." Joseph murmured as his lips continued to tease and tantalize her. As his kisses tormented her sensitive skin, her passion leaped, as did his own._

"_Joseph ..." she gasped, "oh, Joseph ... I've never felt like this before! Am I dreaming this?"_

"_If you are, my dear, then I am dreaming it with you." His voice was low and thrilling. In the back of his mind he registered her words and resolved to ask her about her marriage. Sometime. Not now. Right now he was intent on finally making her his ...except ... except he couldn't! He could sense Clarisse's hesitant withdrawal even as he came to his senses. They were in the hallway! _

"_We must not!" she breathed raggedly. "Joseph ..."_

"_I know," he groaned. "Your duty ... I'm just a servant ... you're the queen ... there can't be anything between us ... yet ... except friendship ... in the shadows ... not the corridor ..." He punctuated his words with kisses to her lips that heated her body and melted her mind. Then their heightened passion burst through the controls restraining them to consume mind and body and there was nothing either could do but surrender to the exquisite pleasure of their kisses ... until ..._

Had we not been interrupted by the Princess and her friends coming noisily down the hallway, I fear that Clarisse and I would have given in to our wants and desires, and a scandal such as Genovia has not known for over five hundred years would have erupted. We WERE interrupted, your Majesty, so for the moment the future of the throne in the hands of the Renaldi family is stable. I vow I shall not be derelict in my duty again. If Clarisse can find the strength to put her own needs and desires on hold for five years, can I do anything less? No. I, too, shall wait ... and hope ... and dream of the day when she can be mine openly and without guilt or shame.

Yours sincerely,

Joseph

_Putting down the pen, Joseph deliberately took a deep breath. If all Clarisse wanted for now was a friend, he would be the best damn friend she had ever had! Then he allowed himself, for the first time since Genovian One had taken off, to wonder how Clarisse was doing, how she was feeling, whether or not she felt his absence with the same sort of gnawing turmoil he was experiencing ... now that he knew with certainty that she was tormented by the same war between heart and duty that tortured him daily. He prayed fervently that Charlotte would watch over her closely for the month until he could return to Genovia himself, and was comforted by the knowledge that the young aide WOULD do all she could to make Clarisse's life easier. Then he thoughtfully refolded the letter and placed it carefully in his jacket pocket once more. This was one letter which would not be misplaced again. It would never do to have anyone else see it._


End file.
